Lies, Money and Undercover Sex

I don't lie to Rex about the big things, but occasionally, I'll lie about the small ones. My deception is less of a verbal fib and more of a silent one. Yes, shock of all shocks, occasionally I keep my mouth shut. If silence speaks a thousand words, it also hides them.

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I feel a bit torn about about my vow of silence. On one hand, little white lies are part of survival. We use them to keep personal information close to our heart, or perhaps to spare feelings. But there's a fine line I'm always conscious of: Why do I need to tell the white lie in the first place? Is it that I am feeling particularly vulnerable? Is it because I'm being selfish and don't want to share my thoughts with Rex? Is it because I'm scared of the reaction I'll get if I tell him the truth? Perhaps a smattering of all of the above rings true, but the biggest reason I might create pretense is that I don't feel like arguing.

For example, a few months back, a friend of a friend was in a bind. She had an amazing opportunity to create some work art for a prominent producer. She accepted the gig, but did not have the tools to complete her proposal. Something about this situation seemed fortuitous to me. A green light was glaring that this girl was not a con artist, but a real one. I wanted to help. I gave her two hundred dollars towards a new computer. It came with two conditions: 1. You don't have to pay me back until you're ready. 2. Don't tell Rex.

My intuition paid off. Not only did Liza get the gig, but she got a contract offering her seven more. She paid me back two months later. And the real kicker – she never told Rex. In fact, the night of the big money transfer, as Rex's parents sat in my living room enjoying cocktails, I quietly slipped outside to give her the cash. "A birthday card," I told Rex.

Why would I not tell my husband about this money? The first reason is that it was my cash, earned from my jobs. I could do with it as I chose. But the second, I knew he wouldn't go for it. It's not that he doesn't like Liza, but we have a kitchen to re-do. There's a million pragmatic reasons for not supporting a starving artist. But I was once a starving artist also, and I had emotional reasons for lending a hand, if not a practical one.

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Truth be told, as we were under covers last night, I let Rex in on the other under cover operation. He reacted just as I thought he might. "I would have said no way in hell, no offense to Liza," he said. "But you're a good person, love."

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